


One by one

by Anonymous



Series: Gentlebang-verse [1]
Category: Frank Iero and the Future Violents (Band), My Chemical Romance, Thursday (US Band)
Genre: Dinner, Fuckaeroff, Humor, I have no idea what else to tag it, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29854356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: How this whole thing (Friday dinners) started.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Geoff Rickly/Tucker Rule/Gerard Way
Series: Gentlebang-verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195436
Comments: 11
Kudos: 13
Collections: Bandom Kink Meme





	One by one

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [bandomkinkmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bandomkinkmeme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Frank/Gerard/Tucker/Geoff  
> or  
> Fuckaeroff (I'm sorry) 
> 
> Basically Frank being THE biggest simp and slut for Gerard, Tucker and Geoff. He praises them a lot while he gives the sloppiest blowjobs and/or gets fucked.

It’s one of those things where you don’t know if you came up with the idea first and then started seeing it everywhere or if the idea was never yours to begin with, getting stuck in your mind because the world kept pushing you in its direction. Frank would argue the idea was completely his and  _ only  _ after being hit with the inspiration he started getting porn recommendations with gangbangs on them because smartphones are listening to every single thing we say, man, it’s insane. He swears he began seeing them more often the same day he ran The Idea past Gerard, obviously not coming on too strong, only testing the waters.

However, The Idea ™ is not the reason Frank established this ‘Friday Night Dinners at his Place’ tradition. Please don’t sexualize his grandmother’s recipes, especially the lasagna. Don’t do that to nonna Iero. Frank’s intentions were pure and innocent when he decided to gather the three people he loves most in the world to show them just how much space they occupy in Frank’s heart through home cooked meals. It’s one of his love languages, as Geoff had so thoughtfully put into words one day, “acts of service.” Yeah, well, Frank likes taking care of his loved ones, so sue him.

And yeah, okay, maybe if he had to put it in simple, more straight-forward terms, he’d have to admit they were all his crushes. Yup, he had a crush on those three guys, but really, this was only about doing something nice for them and having a good time. And if Frank enjoyed being the host way too much, well, that’s the cherry on top.

It’s not his fault either. Frank was raised to be a good host, it’s also in his genes. He’s making his nonna proud, making sure no one leaves on an empty stomach and they take some left-overs home. If that means any of them end up thinking about him during the next few days and send some grateful messages  —or pics— then, again, that’s just another cherry on his sundae.

Because what Frank really loves from these occasions, aside from the obvious wonderful company, is the compliments. The  _ “Thank you Frankie” _ , the  _ “This smells amazing” _ , the  _ “I love your place, it’s so cozy.” _ Like, yeah, jerking off is great, but have you ever been asked what herbs you put on your pasta because it’s just too delicious? It’s like multiple orgasms.

Or a regular orgasm, let’s not exaggerate. What could really compare to multiple ones is what’s happening right now, with all of them still sitting around the dining table, chatting, drinking wine and scotch after dinner.

“No, wait, I got a good one,” Tucker starts, giving Frank a sided glance. “We were touring in 2019…”

“That one’s a secret, motherfucker!” 

It’s a lie and they all know it. There isn’t a single topic or anecdote that is off limits to the people present. 

“So, listen, we’re hanging out at some club we just played, it’s like 4am and I’m fucking beat, okay? I really don’t need any more beating, you know? But this fucker right here,” he points at Frank for dramatic purposes only. He’s clearly the star of this story. “This fucking tiny motherfucker, as you see him,” Frank tenderly flips him off. “He fucking walks up to the biggest guy I’ve ever seen. I’m telling you, he’s like Bautista, so fucking buff and tall, and Frankie walks up to him like they’re on the same level…”

“Oh, I  _ know _ where this is going,” Gerard laughs and Tucker gives him a _ look.  _

“I think I know too,” Geoff chimes in, but Frank immediately shakes his head no.

“You don’t know!” 

“Frankie, anyone who knows you,  _ knows.” _

“You’re supposed to be on MY side, Gee.”

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing. I’m nothing but supportive of you being a slut.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Make me.”

“With my mouth?”

Geoff is the first to break out laughing, quickly followed by Tucker, then Gerard and finally Frank. It’s usually like this when they’re together, trying to push each other’s buttons for laughs, but especially Frank’s, because he’s the one they have in common, the reason they’re there. When it’s story time, they all bring out anecdotes about him; there are the ones where he’s the hero, the ones where he’s an impulsive idiot and others where he’s just horny and dumb. It’s always a healthy mix of all of them, although the last kind is reserved for… well, last. The night often ends with all of them picking on Frank, ganging up on him.

Frank fucking loves it. There’s nothing quite like watching and hearing these impossibly hot and talented men talking about him and—wait. Gang up on him? Really? Those are the words his brain chose? Fuck. He really needs to ask them, even if it is for them to reject The Idea, so Frank can stop fixating on it.

“...and he goes and says ‘if you don’t wanna have a threesome with us, that’s your loss. My boyfriend has a monster dick.’”

“He lied?”

Frank tunes back into the conversation only to interrupt: “About Tucker being my boyfriend, yeah.” His eyebrows wiggle for emphasis, in case someone missed his hilarious joke. And compliment, to be honest.

“Thank you,” Tucker smiles and bows towards Frank before turning to Geoff. “No, yeah, the threesome was bullshit. I mean, I wouldn’t have said no, but that’s the kind of stuff you discuss before you throw it on some homophobe’s face. Ideally.”

“You’d think so.” Gerard replies, smiling fondly although he’s definitely complaining too. “But Frankie’s the kind of guy who hits on big dudes who have given him zero hints of being interested and then takes it personal when they reject him.”

“You never know if he wants to fight or kiss them,” Tucker adds.

“I’m guessing it's more on the kissing side,” Geoff offers his take. “Or both? What's that thing you say, Frankie? Why don’t you spit it on my lips?”

“Why don’t you say it into my mouth?” Frank recites, having repeated it many times and still thinking it’s genius of him. It makes the three of them laugh, so he feels like he’s freaking Seinfeld.

“Okay, anyway, have I told you about that time we fucked up an entire party because of Frank?”

Even though Gerard probably has already, Tucker and Geoff listen attentively, either too polite not to, or too drunk, or too interested in hearing stories about Frank in his twenties. Okay, that last one is wishful thinking.

Or is it not? Gee made an excellent point about Frank biting off more than he can chew —kinda literally?— by flirting with men out of his league, and sport, and world, and universe, Frank really believes he has a good shot in this situation. These are not strangers in bars that he wants to piss off into making out with him; these are his friends. And it should be  _ friends.  _ As in: friends whose balls he has seen many times. Friends who he has hooked up with. Friends whose orgasm faces he knows too well. Friends who send him dick pics. Friends who have Frank’s dick pics on their phones. Friends who, Frank thinks, would be up for something more.

He has blown —and been blown in return by— Geoff as many times as he has stepped in as a guitarist for Thursday, jokingly saying that that should be his payment and then actually doing it. It was the funniest thing, this running joke where Geoff would ask him to play with them again and Frank would reply by sending a receipt that read ‘1 performance = 1 bj’. Then Geoff would tell him he was too cheap.

Tucker and him have shared hand jobs, way too many to count, but all appreciated and needed when being on tour. They had reached a point where all they had to do was exchange a look and they’d know to meet each other at the nearest restroom. Or closet. Or bunk. Or unattended sound booth this one time. 

And then there was Gerard, his brother in cock. Ever since they met they had been taking each other’s pants off, only stopping for long periods of time when they were physically away from one another, like only distance itself could keep them from rutting like teenagers. After Frank took on his solo projects, it meant they would not see each other for months, but going back home always meant going back to Gerard. 

So, yeah, his chances are pretty good. Frank thinks he has dined and wined his crushes enough to pop out the big question: _would you all please come on my face, ideally at the same time but no pressure?_

He’s staring at Gerard’s hands, moving around while he keeps telling his story, feeling his heartbeat racing. Is there any good way to say this? Would Gee know what that is? Does Tucker have an answer? How would Geoff do it? 

Then it hits him; Tucker said he wouldn’t have refused a threesome with Frank. Could’ve been a joke, sure, but what if it wasn’t? Gerard hadn’t been put off by the idea of trying some group stuff and Geoff… Geoff is a fucking saint, a beautiful baby who would find a kind way to say no if he really didn’t want to be a part of it. But Frank could also see Geoff saying yes, just like he did to the whole fellatio-payment they have going on. 

Frank does what he does best: ask for attention. He coughs loudly, just as the laughs start to die down after Gerard is done talking, and they all stare at him. Frank swallows, staring back at them, telling himself to rip off the band aid and get it over with.

“How about some post dinner blow jobs?” he offers, straight to the point. 

There’s an awkward silence, or at least it feels awkward to Frank. He’s ignoring how hot his face is getting, and is counting inside his head up to three to say it was a joke and forget about it forever.

Then Gerard speaks. 

“I was going to ask for a cup of coffee, but a blow job sounds just as good.” It’s enough for Tucker and Geoff to relax in the form of more laughing, they obviously think it is a joke, but Gee’s serious. Perhaps he knows that Frank is trying to ask for something here. “Living room?”

“Fine, jeez,” Tucker gets up from his seat. “We’ll leave you guys alone.”

“It’s getting kinda late,” Geoff adds. “We should go.”

“Or you could stay.” Frank quickly says, resisting the urge to make it sound like he’s joking. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, it’s now or never. “I’d love to… take care of all of you.”

That’s it. It’s out there. These are his true intentions, his deepest desires, his dirtiest fantasy, and he’s laying it out for them to see and judge. To say Frank feels exposed would be an understatement.

What he didn’t think about was that they hadn’t crossed that barrier between them. Sure, Frank could recognize their cocks out of a line, but it wasn’t the same for them. Maybe this is a terribly uncomfortable situation he’s putting them in, perhaps he’s asking for too much—

“You sure?” Tucker asks.

“We wouldn't want to impose,” Geoff adds, smiling.

Frank feels the air going back to his lungs, especially with the way they’re all looking at him, waiting for a confirmation.

“I have two hands, don’t I?”

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to [All for one.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452365)
> 
> sorry to everyone who has to watch how i flirt with the prompter.


End file.
